


Japanese Lullaby

by Romantik_Kun



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, Language Barrier, Light Angst, M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Romance, Smut, Young Hanzo Shimada, Young Jesse McCree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 07:56:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15837051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romantik_Kun/pseuds/Romantik_Kun
Summary: "The sky had gone completely dark, blinding the archer as he felt his way around the forest; ragged breath against swelling winds. A thousand snowflakes addling his senses, whipping his face.But something in his gut told him that he needed to brave the storm... A life depended on it, he could feel it."





	Japanese Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> Hey luvs, I had a major bug with this fic (which caused it to disappear). Fortunately I had a back up copy! *Phew*! Sorry for the re-post, the next chapter might be a ways off since I lost all my progress on this one and had no back up... But hey! I hope you'll enjoy the first chapter all the same~
> 
> Feel free to comment! I answer every comments I get <3
> 
> *and thank you to those who commented previously but whom comments were lost. I really appreciated your kind words!*

Pale moonlight caressed the subtle edges of fallen petals; Their scent carried along a gentle breeze. The Sakuras were in bloom, painting the land with pastel colors.  
It happened every year around the same time... And this year again, Hanzo sat by the sill of an open window; allowing the cold into his room as he watched the flowers dance.  
A strand of midnight caught in soft wind; A lock of silky hair sent flying. Shadows swayed on his visage, at the whim of a fickle flame.

The day's training had been particularly harsh. The young master couldn't match his father's pace; cuts and bruises attested to that. But it was a violent slap on the cheek that hurt Hanzo most... The disappointment in his father's eyes added insult to injury.  
He had ran from the dojo... Passing his little brother Genji in the vast hallway leading up to their rooms. The young man had tried to call his name, stop him so they could talk, only to be shoved out of the way without so much as a word.  
Hanzo loved his brother dearly, but when things soured between the Shimada's patriarch and his eldest son, it was best to bow head and remain silent. Something Genji could never seem to do.

"Anija."  
Genji's voice called to him from the other side of the shoji. His silhouette well visible behind the translucent paper.

The young master remained silent.

"I know you are awake. I can see the light from your bonbori... Please, let us speak."

Silence again.

An audible sigh escaped the youngest son's lips.  
"I am on your side brother... Remember that."  
His gentle voice reminded before he let his steps echo through the corridor. A promise that he had truly left.

Nothing he could have said, nothing he could have done, would have helped Hanzo. On nights such as this one, there was but one thing to sooth his woes.  
He needed to be alone, not confined in his room, but in the vastness of the world; lost amidst the trees.  
There was a path... An opening... A breach in the wall surrounding the castle. To him, it felt like an escape route; somewhere to run to when his home started to feel like a prison. It lead directly into the forest, from there he could walk unbeaten trails. If he walked fast enough, he could even reach the feet of the mountain, or the caves by the ocean side.  
As his mind wandered, a few snowflakes joined the pink petals in a twirl.

"Snow?"  
The young man opened one hand to the sky; intricate patterns of ice fell into his palm, melting at the touch.

If he wished to escape, he needed to go now. Before white could coat the roofs, and his feet could sully it.  
A swift blow killed the fire, gloom was quick to surround him. He couldn't risk bringing his lantern with him, lest it gave away his position. He needed everyone to believe he was in bed, asleep.  
The moon would guide him.  
Hanzo swiftly changed out of his kimono and into his travelling gear. It was similar in fashion, albeit much simpler; the pants were more comfortable, more suitable for long treks through the woods. The top was loose, easy to slip in and out of. A long ribbon of patterned silk was tied into his hair; holding it up in a ponytail.  
His bow sat by the bed, a quiver full of arrows at its feet; Hanzo grabbed the weapon, trapping himself between it and the string to carry it. The quiver sat comfortably on one of his shoulders.  
His steps completely silent, the young noble leaped out of the window; Left open for safe return.

He ran over curved tiles, keeping his balance with feline agility. Once he could see the zen gardens he hopped down the roof directly into nearby bushes, and, crouching behind them, followed the wall; letting his hand brush over cold rock.  
As he sneaked around the third garden, and passed the last toro, he laid face down on the grass; crawling through rosy petals and a thin layer of snow. Squeezing beneath a solid bushel of white flowers; in bloom despite the freezing winds. He reached his destination.  
A crack in the wall; barely wide enough so that he could ease through. It was a tight fit, but a fit nonetheless.  
Hanzo breathed in sharply, holding his breath; releasing it once safely across in a relieved sigh.  
A crisp had settled on the grass, crushing under his feet as he ran into the forest. He wanted to make it in time to visit the shore; to see the full moon's reflection on wavering water. If fortune willed it, he might even caught a glimpse of an aurora borealis; a rare occurrence in Hanamura.

Despite the dark, and the absence of beaten paths, Hanzo navigated the wild as though performing a rehearsed choreography.  
The wind had died out, leaving the snowflakes to fall slowly; suspended in time.  
The young ninja cut through them like a fury, air sifting through his hair as he dashed through the night.  
The stars always seemed to follow, wherever he went.  
At long last, he could see the water. Mist surrounded the shores around the mountain on chilly nights, stars twinkled playfully; looking at their reflection.  
A smile curled Hanzo's lips, he felt at peace.

Careful not to slip, the young man hopped from one stone to the next, heading for a cave; carved into the mountainside. It was a place he knew well, one he'd frequent often on such outings. You could say he had made it his own.  
He had left a few things inside; carefully tucked away. Namely: dry wood, a bit of preserved food and a number of hides. His favorite being the heavy pelt of a black bear his father had gifted to him...  
He would sprawl it out on the ground and lay over it; lighter pelts wrapped around his shoulders, his feet pointed at the fire.  
The cave's proximity to water meant large predator kept away from it. Making it a safe spot to catch some shut-eye.  
The ninja set foot inside, his steps still silent. Stumbling around in the dark for a while, he found the wood he had left behind. Perfectly dry, ideal to start a fire.  
In a matter of minutes, he had shadows dancing on the rocky walls of the cavern. He set out the pelt; warming it up by the flames, and ruffled through a large bag for provisions.  
Wrapped tightly in little bundles, various aromatics and medicinal plants were packed under fragrant roots. Hanzo used them for tea and, occasionally, in soups. There were also dehydrated mushrooms, cuts of salted meat and dried fish. Everything he could possibly need to put together a decent meal.  
Wood crackled under scorching heat; slowly turning to ash.

Fetching a bowl from his satchel, Hanzo left for the mouth of the grotto; kneeling by the water to fill the small vessel.  
Crickets hummed a sweet melody in the breeze, hiding from the cold in nearby branches. Although... The forest felt eerily quiet otherwise... The valley was home to many animals, it was odd to think them so quiet.  
A pack of wolves had their home nearby, and would usually hunt along the shore for unsuspecting prey; their heads bowed to drink from the source. Yet, their howls did not punctuate the night...  
Hanzo worried that something might be disturbing the woods... His hazel eyes searched for the mountaintop, settling over dark clouds instead... The stars were veiled, the moon struggled to shine through the stormy sky.  
It couldn't be... A blizzard?

Suddenly, a noise tore through the silence; a cross between a small explosion and thunder... The young man had never heard anything quite like it.  
His head jolted south, where the sound lingered... The crickets had gone silent.  
As abruptly as it came the first time, a second detonation echoed. Sending Hanzo onto his feet; doubling back inside for Storm bow. He readied an arrow and disappeared into the gloom... Leaving behind shattered porcelain.

The sky had gone completely dark, blinding the archer as he felt his way around the forest; ragged breath against swelling winds. A thousand snowflakes addling his senses, whipping his face.  
But something in his gut told him that he needed to brave the storm... A life depended on it, he could feel it.  
In his hurried state, he lost foot and crashed into the snow in a brutal thud. Feeling the frost bite his fingertips as he let his weapon slip through his hands.

A panicked gasp escaped his lips in spite of himself, his hands buried in the snow in search of the bow. The arrows had slipped out of their quiver as well.

"No, damn it! No!"  
His voice; lost... But not to all.

Warmth bumped at his side, sliding under his arm. Hanzo recognized it immediately.

"Ookami?"  
He called the name.

The wolf exited his touch for no more than a second, returning with Storm bow in its mouth.  
A smile pulled the corners of his lips.

"Thank you."

He and the beast shared a strong bond. Ookami was no pet, but a trusted friend.

"Something is amiss..."  
He weaved his finger into the wolf's thick mane.  
"You feel it too, do you not?"  
He rose to his feet, dusting a fair amount of snow off his clothes... For all the good it did.  
"Be my eyes."

The beast let out a low gurgle, agreeing to help. Hanzo followed after his companion; the latter let out quick barks to call him back to her whenever he strayed too far.  
It became evident they had reached a clearing when gusts freely worked against him; every step was a struggle. Ookami kept her snout to the ground, sniffing furiously, like fighting to keep onto a trail. Suddenly, her wild eyes darted up and she took off, sprinting ahead.

"Wait!"  
His plea went unheard, but a few seconds later, a long howl allowed the two friends to reunite. The wolf dug through the snow, whining.  
Hanzo fell to his knee beside her, letting his hand plunge into the cold. As soon as he did, he felt the fading heat of a body. Without thinking, he dove into the snow, pulling the weight out of it.  
"Hey, hey!-"  
He shouted, muted by the storm. The other man laid in his arms as he cupped his visage in his hand. Frost had settled in the stranger's beard. Hanzo's lithe fingers slid from his cheek to his neck, trying to make out a pulse... It was weak, but it was there.  
"Ookami! Lead us back to the cave!"  
He commanded, hauling the man onto his back.  
The beast let out a rough bark and led her companion through the woods once more.

The trek back was tedious, Hanzo struggled to keep moving; his teeth chattering. The man must have been at least a head taller than he was; his long legs trailed behind them in the snow.  
Finally, the young warrior could feel his steps hit hard ground, they were almost there.

The wolf slipped first into the cave. It was fortunate that the fire was still burning. The rocky formation shielding the camp from the elements.  
She sent her whole body spinning, trying to shake the ice from her fur.  
Hanzo stumbled onto his knees; shifting the weight off his back, he laid the stranger down next to the bear's pelt.  
Orange light dispensed the darkness between them, and for the first time, he could see the stranger's face.

He was a young man, probably in his twenties, just like Hanzo. Long locks of brown hair were tangled on his head; falling down to his shoulders. The beard that framed his jaw was short but unkempt. It didn't help that it was littered with ice.  
The cold had drained the color from his visage, his nose still bled, a bruise on his cheek had turned violet... His breath was shallow, weak, irregular. At this rate, he wouldn't make it through the night.  
The archer struggled to rid him of his clothes; soaked in freezing water as frost thawed. He was dressed oddly; A cape of some sort was wrapped around his neck; made to rest on his shoulders. A breastplate sat on his chest; two small holes had bent the metal. A shirt laid underneath; tucked in his pants.  
His bare chest revealed sun-kissed skin, a thin trail of hair, a few scars and two contusions; one right above his heart and the other on his shoulder.  
Hanzo pressed down gently over them; feeling flesh and bones. His shoulder had been dislocated... Luckily, the hunter knew how to replace it. It was brief; in a loud click the joint was back in place. A pained grimace painted a frown on the stranger's face; it lingered. He could still feel pain... unfortunate, but at least he was still alive.  
Concerned hypothermia might be settling in, Hanzo worked fast to unfasten a sturdy belt with strange letters on it, he could not read them. A heavy chunk of metal dangled from the hip. Throwing it aside he pulled on a pair of large boots: little metal stars were nailed in the heels. Finally, he pulled the strange pants off, successfully getting him out of his gear.  
Minding his shoulder he moved the stranger onto the bear's pelt: soft, and warm from the fire, before he covered him in a myriad of furs... He had done all he could. Unless the young man woke up, he couldn't make him tea, or something to eat... Hopefully his efforts would see him through the night.

The young master sat by the fire, trying to quench a shiver... He was cold, him too soaked from head to toes, but... He could not bring himself to take his eyes off the stranger.  
He was unlike anyone he had ever met before... His clothes, the color of his hair, the very shape of his visage, even the angle of his eyes... Not to mention the weird dialect on his belt.  
He was an outsider.  
His father had warned him against such people. And, in theory, the young heir should have never been able to meet such an individual. His family owned the whole valley, no one except the castle's inhabitants were allowed to be there. And he wasn't allowed out...  
Who was he? How did he wound up in the middle of the woods in a foreign land? Why? Were there others like him? Who, or what, attacked him?  
There were no shortage of questions...

Hanzo repressed a hard cough, trying to be silent.  
Ookami slid to his side in a whine, she too, kept a watchful eye on the outsider.

"Walk with me..."  
He whispered, petting her head.

They walked to the entrance, the blizzard was still howling and the moon was nowhere to be seen.  
A desperate sigh escaped the prince's lips.  
"I cannot make it home in this weather..."  
He lamented.  
He could not venture the night, his father would notice his absence in the morning...

The wolf lowered her head in response, feeling her friend's anxiety.

Another violent cough caught in his throat, one he couldn't repress... He spat his lungs furiously, his whole body quaked.  
He hurried back inside where it was warm, and stoked the fire... But it did nothing for him. He had to get rid of his clothes too, lest he meant to loose toes...

Hanzo let his gi slide down his shoulders; uncovering the line work of a complex irezumi on his left arm, reaching over his heart. He freed his feet from his boots and let them sit by the fire... Hesitating whence it came time to get rid of his pants.  
He shot a worried glance at the stranger.

His visage had regained some of its colors; his lips quivered quickly each time his teeth chattered. He was cold too...

A conflicted blush settled on Hanzo's cheeks. They both desperately needed the warmth, but... They were perfect strangers. It felt wrong to lay beside him. Then again... this was his pelt. His cave. Why should he be the one to catch his death.  
With cautious steps, the young heir gathered the clothes laying around the cave and sprawled them onto the ground; close to the fire so they could dry. Before finally slipping out of his pants. He opted to keep his fundoshi, which, luckily, was well dry. And gently settled by the other man's side... Resting as far away from him as possible. Which, coincidentally, wasn't very far at all...

Ookami laid at their feet, her white fur painted with orange highlights.

Warmth traveled freely in the space between them... It was compelling, Hanzo wished he had the courage to close the distance. His hazel eyes got lost in the sight of him once more.  
A few freckles peppered his cheeks, his brows wiggled indecisively; feeling Hanzo's warmth just out of reach. Incoherent mumble escaped his lips without energy.  
Hesitantly, the prince reached out to him. Caressing his bicep with lithe fingers. His pale skin contrasted the outsider's tan beautifully.  
A pleased hum graced the air at the touch; forcing a smile to the archer's lips. He found the young man strangely charming... He was a mystery; a rugged outsider with captivating looks. It was hard to resist.  
Pulling himself closer, Hanzo rested his head on the stranger's chest; careful not to hurt him. The other male melted into the embrace instantly.  
Their shared warmth was delectable, it wasn't long before it lulled the young archer into deep sleep...


End file.
